Museums Open Again

Although lockdown was an adventure in itself and opened up new avenues of interest, there's no getting away from the fact that it did prevent us from doing some of our favourite things. I've loved visiting museums ever since I was a small child on school trips. Pushing buttons to make machinery turn in the engineering gallery of the Royal Museum in Edinburgh got me hooked. I long ago lost count of the number of times I've visited the place, now simply entitled the Museum of Scotland following the major extension project of the late 90s. As a trainee teacher at nearby Moray House College, I would often disappear within the cavernous gallery space if I found myself with free time on my hands. Even a quick visit to marvel at the glass-roofed Victorian entrance hall is well worth the effort to climb the steps and go through the revolving doors. Except you now enter at street level. Showing my age here. In the silver medal slot is the Scottish National Portrait Gallery on Queen Street.

Like its big cousin in the Old Town, the Portrait Gallery offers free general admission. It also features stunning examples of interior architecture and the large red sandstone building stands proudly on a wide Georgian thoroughfare. Opened in 1889, the exhibition areas feature paintings of famous Scots, although the artists are not necessarily from here. The great hall is located in the centre of the building and the arcaded pointed arches immediately catch the eye. Statues and busts of historic figures are unobtrusively on display. Around the first-floor balustrade, a processional frieze against a rippled gold backdrop depicts 155 historical figures. They march around the hall in reverse chronological order, from the nineteenth century through to Stone Age man. The line-up includes royalty, military, religious and political icons as well as explorers, inventors, poets and artists. The sequence begins with the author and historian Thomas Carlyle, who played a significant role in the establishment of the Scottish National Portrait Gallery. I was waiting outside for the doors to open as I'd booked a time slot for 10am. I had a busy day planned as it was the Doors Open weekend for the City of Edinburgh. The gallery visit wasn't part of this itinerary but I wanted to spend a couple of hours here before moving on to my planned schedule of old graveyards and churches. I've been to the Portrait Gallery several times over the years but there had been a long delay enforced by Covid. I headed upstairs and began browsing a display entitled The Modern Portrait. Showcasing people from 20th-century Scottish life, the artwork was a mix of traditional paintings and photographs. There were household names such as Billy Connolly (painted by the indefatigable John Byrne), Alan Cumming and Annie Lennox, but also more unheralded Scots like the team of three doctors who made a major breakthrough in cancer research. As I could readily relate to the timeframe of the exhibition, I took the time to read most of the notes beside the pictures to find out a little more about the subjects. It was still early and there was ample room to explore. I've never really considered myself a connoisseur of art but I normally find a few pieces that leap out from the wall and draw me in for a closer inspection. On such example today was a large scale canvas of Caledonian Airways supremo Sir Adam Thomson (1926-2000). The image shows him standing inside a large hangar while dozens of tasks are being undertaken in the background. The minute attention to detail is incredible and you could easily return to this painting (as I did twice) and spot elements that had eluded you last time around. I certainly didn't notice the guy eating his lunch up in the rafters upon first glance. Your gaze is pulled all over the place as you attempt to digest the scene. Maybe that's why Sir Adam is depicted in a somewhat distracted pose. He occupies the most space by far but he's not meant to be the absolute centre of attention. He's the leader but the workers beavering away in the distance are vital to the success of the whole operation. If anyone says they find it difficult to appreciate artwork, all I can say is cop a load of this!

Adam Thomson came from a flying background, working as a pilot and instructor before founding British Caledonian Airways in 1961. The company became the main private challenger to state monolith British Airways and Adam served as chief executive and chairman. The cabin crew were famously decked out in tartan. The 1980s saw many nationalised industries sold off to the public and British Airways was floated on the Stock Exchange in 1987. Almost immediately, the new private enterprise bought British Caledonian - lock, stock and barrel, a deal that no doubt netted Sir Adam a few shekels. In truth, he was probably relieved to offload the operation as a highly successful early 80s period had started to turn sour following a series of international political incidents outwith the control of the airline. The takeover allowed British Airways to buy off the main competition before it had the opportunity to stage a recovery and a rosy future in the free market for the former state carrier seemed assured. Well that was the theory. In reality, long-distance international aviation is a tough environment but an old warhorse like BA could give as good as they got. What nobody really saw coming was the rise of budget airlines like Easyjet and Ryanair in the late 90s which - aided in no small part by the growing ubiquity of the internet - began to take a huge share of short-to-medium flight traffic. It transpired that passengers are quite prepared to put up with no-frills conditions for a couple of hours in the air if this results in a bargain price. Personally I've almost exclusively used the cheapo airlines for travelling around Europe over the past 20 years. I've perfected the art of rolling up clothing tightly and squeezing it into a cabin-sized rucksack. The aviation industry is so tightly regulated you know there's no safety compromise to worry about. Yes, the likes of Easyjet sometimes use airports off the beaten track but there are usually delights in these areas waiting to be discovered. From an environmental point of view, the whole thing is quite insane. It's often substantially cheaper to fly than take a train or ferry, not to mention quicker. There's no way we'll see a mass switch of transportation modes under that pricing model. Yet it would take a brave Chancellor of the Exchequer to announce a big tax rise on aviation fuel. And so the cycle continues. Blah, blah, blah, as Greta Thunberg would say. Adam Thomson died aged 73, having come a long way from his working-class upbringing in a Glasgow tenement. He had trained as a pilot with the Fleet Air Arm during the latter stages of WW2. It got me thinking about how conflict on this scale - while never desirable - is full of irony and absurdity, as well as a great enforcer of (long overdue) social change. Many young men would have readily been given opportunities that were difficult to attain under normal circumstances. Adam Thomson then went on to enjoy considerable success in peacetime, but could he have achieved the same things without the war prising the door open?

Another portrait that caught my eye was Lord MacKay of Clashfern. I liked the use of colour and brightness in this particular image. James MacKay was born in 1927 and is still with us at the time of writing. In a similar manner to Adam Thomson, MacKay was the son of a railwayman and rose to the pinnacle of his profession. Hailing from Scourie, Sutherland, he won a scholarship to George Heriot's School in the capital city and went on to secure a first-class degree in mathematics and physics at Edinburgh University. After a two-year stint lecturing in maths, he embarked upon a law degree at Cambridge University and rose rapidly within the legal profession. He became a Queen's Counsel in 1965 and by the time the 80s rolled round, he had been appointed Lord Advocate, the senior law official in Scotland. A life peerage as Baron MacKay of Clashfern followed and he also served as Lord Chancellor under the Prime Ministers Margaret Thatcher and John Major. Quite the legal eagle then! I worked my way through the other parts of the museum and was struck by paintings of Andrew Carnegie, a young Queen Victoria, Tsar Nicholas II of Russia and Sir Walter Scott. The temporary photography exhibition - The World's Edge - examined the extreme geographical points of the various continents surrounding the Atlantic Ocean and the journeys undertaken by photographer Thomas Joshua Cooper to reach these outposts. Anything to do with mapping appeals greatly to me. I also enjoyed the exhibition relating to the execution of King Charles I and the gallery showing all the Jacobean imagery. A very fulfilling two hours and I stumbled out into the daylight afterwards to start my Doors Open Day exploration. I wrote a letter to the Portrait Gallery the following week and received a lovely reply - something by no means certain in the digital age. I shall of course make a return visit in a year or two. On a separate weekend, I headed over to the National Museum of Scotland on Chambers Street. The main reason was to view the Galloway Hoard - the richest collection of rare and unique Viking objects ever found in Britain or Ireland. Some of the treasure comes from remote kingdoms in Asia and the haul transports us back to a critical moment in history; the formation of the political entities we now know as Scotland, England and Ireland. The exhibition was running for a few months in Edinburgh and I wanted to see it before it departed for Kirkcudbrightshire, the county where the hoard was found. It was discovered in 2014 by a member of the public with a metal detector and allocated to the National Museum Collection three years later. Among the hundred-plus items are a silver pendant cross, a unique bird-shaped gold pin, a decorated silver vessel, two examples of an entirely new type of cross-shaped brooch, unique multi-hinge straps and a gold-mounted rock-crystal flask contained in a silk-lined pouch. The phrase "finders keepers" has no real basis in law but I wonder if the person who unearthed this fascinating treasure trove received a percentage of the value?

Before hitting the museum I wandered through St Cuthbert's Churchyard and into Princes Street Gardens, passing the impressive Ross Fountain. Having strolled through the centre of Edinburgh countless times since I was a small child, it's easy to take for granted the tranquillity of this green space, sitting in a valley adjacent to the main shopping stretch. Things are changing here too though, with Princes Street no longer the retail powerhouse it once was. Several well-known names have disappeared from the frontages over the last decade and there are even empty units, particularly at the western end. Poundland now has a presence on our premier High Street. Whatever next? Puff Daddy Vape? It was a beautiful day. Summer hadn't quite ended and green was the dominant colour. I took the time to appreciate the views of the castle perched high above and the National Galley down at grass level. It's no wonder tourists flock from across the globe to the Athens of the North. It was my first post-Covid visit to the National Museum and it felt fantastic to once again set foot in the great hall, flooded with natural light. The original building was opened in 1866 as the Edinburgh Museum of Science & Art. From 1904 to 2006, it was known as the Royal Museum of Scotland and the hugely diverse collection encompasses science, technology, natural history, cosmology and world cultures. As the 21st century approached, a new building was constructed alongside the Royal Museum and opened to the public in 1998. Named the Museum of Scotland, it connected internally to the Royal and I visited within the first couple of weeks. As the name suggests, the collection is exclusively centred around Scotland as opposed to the worldwide scope of the Royal Museum. Absolutely nothing wrong with the displays but I've always regarded the surroundings as pretty drab compared to what's on offer next door. The roof terrace is a nice touch though and offers a fantastic vista of the city. I can't comment on the Tower Restaurant as the prices have always scared me away! The two museums were formally united in 2006 as the National Museum of Scotland and I'm perfectly happy with that arrangement. There is often a £10 entry charge for the travelling exhibitions but today was free, presumably because the Galloway Hoard already belongs to the museum. I took the escalator up to the gallery and made my way inside.

Business was brisk but there was ample room to move around freely and inspect the displays without feeling any pressure to quickly move on to the next. As is often the case, the lighting was subdued and this can make photography difficult as blurring can occur. I managed to take a few decent shots and there were no signs forbidding this activity. The intention of the dimness was no doubt to create an atmosphere rather than be a requirement for protecting fragile artefacts. They were chunks of solid metal after all! The lidded vessel that contained many of the individual hoard items was estimated to date from the 6th century to the 8th. The surface was engraved with great detail but only a 3D-printed scale model was available to view. The original silver pot was being kept in storage under carefully controlled temperatures to prevent any further decay of the textiles that swathed this remarkable object. Analysis of the decoration suggests the vessel originates from Central Asia as it is markedly different from the two other similar finds of known European heritage. We tend to think of the Vikings as seafarers who landed at coastal locations. They are less associated with places like inland Russia. However, their longboats would certainly have been capable of navigating the major European rivers towards Asia. The lid sealing the vessel helped to create unusual conditions for leather and textile preservation. These materials are of huge value to archaeologists because they rarely survive and, unlike gold or silver, can be scientifically analysed using techniques such as radiocarbon dating. A real glimpse into the far past but one that poses many more questions than it answers. Better to have a peek though, than remain blind. It was definitely a worthwhile expedition to come and see the Galloway Hoard. These special exhibitions don't always live up to expectations but I could have no complaints today. Full marks to the museum organisation for taking the treasures down to the Stewartry of Kirkcudbright so the local people can view what was found on their own patch. I spent a couple of hours exploring other parts of the vast museum complex, sticking to the quieter areas. The dedicated bird gallery was dismantled during a renovation period around a decade ago. A few specimens remain the general Natural History section which has been given a family-friendly makeover. Dare I say it strays into the realms of superficiality? I fully agree with the decision to remove the endless dusty glass cases of insects, ditto rocks and minerals, but you do have to walk the thin line between presenting serious information and creating a display the bulk of the public will actually want to look at. Not easy. Can I have my old animals and birds back please? Even if the stuffing was starting to hang out of their Victorian behinds. The café was unfeasibly busy so I headed to trusty old Piemaker for a pit stop before setting out on a wander through the Meadows.

I was building a walk for the website incorporating the two major green spaces in central Edinburgh. Consisting of open grassland criss-crossed by tree-lined paths, the Meadows are always buzzing on a nice day. Historically common ground - although, thankfully, cattle is no longer grazed upon it - the parkland is protected by local bye laws which prohibit major building works. A temporary exception was granted in 1886 when Edinburgh staged the International Exhibition of Science, Industry and Art. A sensational spectacle in true Victorian tradition, an imposing domed grand hall was erected along with numerous other grand buildings. It was opened by Prince Albert Victor - eldest son of the heir to the throne and grandson of Queen Victoria. Albert never fulfilled his destiny as king, dying from pneumonia aged just 28. Visiting these world-fair exhibitions gave the public a taste of the exotic and a look into the exciting new technologies of the future. Highlights included an Old Edinburgh street reconstruction and a Women's Industries display. No doubt there was something for everyone but perhaps the biggest novelty was the use of 3000 electric lamps to illuminate the site when dusk fell. This was by far the most powerful artificial lighting project ever attempted in Scotland and the technology itself was still in its infancy. The Meadows were restored to green fields after the exhibition ended but one or two traces of the event remain. A massive whale jaw-bone spans the footpath bearing its name and in a far corner among a clump of trees stands a commemorative pillar with a sundial on top. Designed by Sir James Gowans, it marked the opening of the exhibition. Thankfully something survives from what must have been an absolute extravaganza. I wonder how many people even know about it today.

Stirling Circuit

Let's get one thing straight. Scotland has four cities: Edinburgh, Glasgow, Dundee and Aberdeen. Ok, Perth at a push. We all know it has been nicknamed Fair City for a long time. However, I don't have any time for the "new cities" - official charter or not. In my opinion, Stirling and Inverness are large towns. Significant ones, yes. Lots of history to explore, check. But towns they remain, regardless of whether there happens to be a cathedral or university. I don't even support proposals to re-classify my stomping ground of Dunfermline as a city. Can we not be content as an ancient royal town?

Alright, rant over. I'm only half an hour's drive away from Stirling and head over every now and then. What I hadn't done was the famous Back Walk that encircles the hills in the town centre where the castle stands. I included a section of the River Forth Trail to create a loop that would taken in a lot of Stirling's history and heritage. My starting point was the outlying village of Cambuskenneth. Part of an ancient abbey can be found here. There are also tremendous views of the imposing Wallace Monument that stands proudly on top of nearby Abbey Craig. Completed in 1869, the 220-foot sandstone tower has 246 internal steps leading to the viewing platform. Exhibitions are housed within the body of the structure. I first visited as a boy scout in the 1980s and returned around 2000, by which time the Braveheart movie had generated massive tourist interest in William Wallace's life. Aside from the amazing vista from the observation deck, I remember a couple of things. An American spending a lot of money in the gift shop on souvenirs for his son and a two-handed longsword on display that reputedly belonged to the man himself and was used in the Battles of Stirling Bridge and Falkirk. The accompanying text suggested the authenticity of the weapon may be in doubt. In order to effectively wield such a sword in conflict, a man would have to be around seven feet tall. Our Billy was by all accounts a big fellow but - considering the average height of the time struggled to scrape above five feet - I think it's stretching things to say he resembled a medieval basketball player. Experts reckon the sword probably dates from the 15th century and may well have been fashioned by piecing several smaller blades together. But it's a good story and it helps bring in the punters. Cambuskenneth Abbey stands in a field adjacent to the village and there is also a graveyard on the same site. The bell tower remains in good condition but the rest of the building is now reduced to foundation. Following the Scottish victory at the Battle of Bannockburn, the spoils of war were distributed in the compound. Opening times are seasonal so I had to view from behind the perimeter fence. This was also the case when Nicole and I had visited a couple of years previously. Free parking was readily available here and a footbridge across the Forth would speedily connect me to the town proper. The railed tomb of James III (and his wife Margaret of Denmark) lies within the cemetery and I'll have to return at some point in the summer to have a look at that. He was killed at the Battle of Sauchieburn in 1488. As a place of worship, Cambuskenneth fell into disuse during the Reformation and eventual ownership of the abbey passed to the Crown in 1908. It is now managed by Historic Scotland. The bell tower was extensively restored in 1859 and is quite an attraction in its own right. I had a quick scout around the area then navigated my way through a couple of charming old streets towards the slender footbridge across the Forth. On the opposite bank I was able to step straight on to the heritage trail which follows the river as it snakes its way through Stirling. Various information points relayed the importance of the watercourse - still tidal at this point - in the town's development as a royal capital and centre of industry. Across the water, a Stirling County rugby match was in full swing at their tidy little stadium. I walked as far as the bridge carrying the Glasgow and Perth railway before turning away from the Forth and entering the old town.

The incoming line from Alloa joins the Glasgow route just before the river crossing. Passenger services were restored in 2008 and the tracks run all the way back to Dunfermline. As yet, there has been no implementation of a passenger service to Fife, despite the infrastructure being ready to go and continued calls for the return of this transport corridor - axed in 1968. Aside from the obvious financial question, another stumbling block is the fact the proposed route utilises the freight single-track link through the now-demolished Longannet Power Station and not the old fast line to Dunfermline via Oakley - which is now a cycle path. The projected journey times are therefore significantly slower and add weight to the argument that buses would do a quicker (and cheaper) job. Except there isn't actually a direct bus service between Dunfermline and Stirling - two large towns just 20 miles apart. How's that for a lack of joined-up thinking? I found the flight of steps leading up to Back Walk and made an immediate short detour to the summit of Gowan Hill. This offered fantastic views of the meandering Forth below and across to the Wallace Monuments with the Ochils beyond. Two canons are positioned on Gowan Hill overlooking the town but they are purely for ornamental purposes and have never fired a shot in anger. Of more interest was the Beheading Stone, contained within a domed cage on top of a cylindrical stone pillar. It was apparently used for many executions during the 15th Century including Murdoch, Duke of Albany and one time Regent of Scotland. He was the grandson of King Robert II, founder of the Stewart Dynasty. A wooden (chopping?) block would be placed on top and holes can be seen in the stone where this would have been secured. King James I was taking revenge for Albany's 18-year abuse of power while the King was held captive in England.

William Wallace's most famous victory over the English was at the Battle of Stirling Bridge in 1297. Today's historic crossing of the Forth near the town centre (officially known as Stirling Old Bridge) was constructed a couple of hundred years after old Captain Braveheart led the Scots against the forces of Edward I. The battle centred around a timber structure and this may have been replaced a couple of times before what we now know as the Old Bridge was solidly built in stone. It remains one of the best medieval masonry arch bridges in Scotland, although it was partially dismantled in 1745 to try and hinder the progress of the Jacobite Army under Bonnie Prince Charlie. The location of Stirling in the Forth Valley had long been something of a military choke point for advancing northwards. Much of the surrounding landscape was impassable marsh and invading troops were forced to run the gauntlet of funnelling through a relatively narrow strip of land, which of course gives a significant advantage to the defending side. In times of peace, Stirling Old Bridge functioned as a key route for the overland movement of goods. Very little escapes the eye of the Inland Revenue and tolls were charged on each crossing. George Harrison famously opened the Beatles White Album with "Taxman" - a stinging rebuke of the punitive system massively stacked in favour of the government. I'm sure the wandering minstrels of the 1500s also vented their spleen from time to time. By 1833, a new road bridge across the Forth was opened and the old one closed to wheeled traffic. I wonder if it actually solved the congestion problem or simply attracted an increased number of carts and carriages? It was time to hit the Back Walk and make my way around Castle Hill. Various wooden carvings of local wildlife were placed at regular intervals but the most curious art installation was a representation of Father John Damian - the Birdman of Stirling Castle. In 1507 he made a bold announcement, worthy of Icarus himself - a solo flight to France. A feathered suit was made to measure and Damian duly launched himself from the castle ramparts. Instead of reaching distant Gallic shores, he merely tumbled down Castle Hill, miraculously breaking only his thigh bone. Defiantly, he blamed the spectacularly short duration of the flight upon the inclusion of some chicken feathers in his "wings" and they lacked the necessary propulsion. He claimed chickens were creatures who "covet the middens and not the sky"

As I progressed around the base of the castle, lovely views appeared of the flat landscape spreading out to the west below the hill I stood upon. In geographical terms, this land is the upper flood plain of the River Forth and it's known popularly as the Carse of Stirling. The path then skirted the Old Town Cemeteries and I wandered inside. I scrambled up to the highest point for a superb view of the castle perched above. Snowdon Cemetery lay directly below the castle walls but it is a 20th-century addition and not generally considered part of the Old Town graveyards. I have visited the castle a couple of times over the years and the highlight for me is definitely the restored great hall with all the exposed interior wooden beams. The largest of its kind in Scotland, the hall was used for feasts, dances and pageants. The brainchild of James IV, the great hall was fully functional by 1503 but fell out of use after the castle ceased to be a seat of royalty. The hall was converted to barracks in the 1800s and it wasn't until the military moved out in 1965 that plans for a full restoration could be pursued. This project was finally completed in 1999 and the result is an outstanding historically accurate recreation of the original dining space. The castle remains the headquarters of the Argyll & Sutherland Highlanders but largely in a ceremonial sense these days. The regimental museum is part of the tourist experience. The main draw however is the castle's connections to the monarchy and several Scottish kings & queens were crowned here, most notably Mary Queen of Scots in 1543. She also grew up here, as did King James VI (and 1st of England) - a pivotal figure in British history. It's no wonder the fortress was often described as the keys to the Kingdom of Scotland, overlooking a territory where the Highlands and Lowlands come together. I went for a wander among the gravestones and found several monuments of interest. The Star Pyramid is dedicated to all those who suffered martyrdom in the cause of civil and religious liberty in Scotland. A massive sandstone block, the pyramid dominates this corner of the graveyard, standing on a stepped base upon a shaped grassy mound. Marble Bibles sit at the bottom of each face and there are carved references to biblical texts. Wrought iron railings enclose the memorial.

My favourite sight was the octagonal glass fronted Virgin Martyrs Monument, erected in 1859 to commemorate two young girls of Stirling. They were arrested in the 16th century for their beliefs, convicted of high treason and sentenced to death by drowning. The sisters - Margaret and Agnes, aged 18 and 13 respectively - were supporters of the Covenanters, an extreme Presbyterian group strongly opposed to the Anglican reforms of Charles II. Agnes escaped a watery grave after her father purchased her freedom. Margaret was offered her freedom at the last minute but refused to relinquish her convictions. She died for her faith in 1685. I walked past the Church of the Holy Rude to re-join Back Walk. I stopped to look at Cowane's Hospital - an almshouse built in 1637 within the historic town walls. It catered for elderly members of the Merchants Guild who had fallen upon hard times. The charitable foundation later adopted a policy of providing for senior citizens within their own homes and the building was repurposed as the Guildhall. In 1832 the building was pressed into service as an isolation hospital during a cholera epidemic during which one-third of Stirling's population perished. It is now run as a hospitality venue. The Back Walk path sloped down towards town, passing a chunk of old boundary wall. I made my way through the streets to the railway station and crossed the tracks on a footbridge. Picking up the River Forth Trail enabled me to wind back to Cambuskenneth. A most satisfying afternoon's exploring. As always, many new facts learned. Town, city, whatever. Stirling is a fascinating place.

Sunday Wanderings

With Nicole working all day Sunday for the foreseeable future, I began assembling a list of destinations I could comfortably visit during (home) office hours. Mainly places that had been lingering at the back of my mind for a while. Walking routes I'd spotted on a map that would make a nice little excursion. Generally non-urgent stuff I could tackle if and when a period of free time presented itself. On some outings I would ask my mum to accompany me. She's now living alone since dad moved into a care home and she gave up driving a while back. Only right that I should take her to places of interest.

But I'll begin this collection with a report of a solo walk. Denny is a small town in Stirlingshire just off the M80 and M876. A place I'd seen on road signs hundreds of times but never actually been to. Yet just a 20 minute drive away. I stitched together a circular route making use of railway and river paths and scouted out a suitable place to park. Upon arrival I was confronted by the impressive parish church which had a nice floral display out front. I ditched the car and began my walk on Glasgow Road. The title suggests it was part of the main route from Stirling to our biggest city prior to the construction of the motorway network. I picked up the path that ran alongside the old town house and modern sports centre. I was walking upon the trackbed of the branch line from Falkirk to Denny and close to the site of the station, now long gone. Passenger services were withdrawn as far back as 1930. A large number of small stations were closed in this year. Nearly always as a result of increasing competition from buses and trams which creamed off the short-journey traffic as a result of cheaper fares and more frequent services. Another problem was that some railway stations were built a significant distance from the settlement they purported to serve. This obviously wasn't the case in Denny but I've personally visited a few old halts where a 2-mile walk was required to reach the town or village centre. The demise of Denny Station didn't cut off the town from the national rail network. Far from it. Two freight lines looped around the outskirts, transporting goods to and from the various foundries, pits and mills that once thrived here. Trains continued to chug their way along the old branch until Doctor Beeching finally appeared over the horizon in the late 60s, brandishing his fearsome axe. While researching my trip, I'd come across an encouraging article from 2019 in the local press, confirming that the local authority had granted funding to upgrade the redundant trackbed to a walking and cycling route between Falkirk and Denny. I couldn't find any further evidence of progress, either in printed form or on the actual ground. My assumption is that Covid put the kaibosh on this project. For now, at least. I transferred to the old line that ran north and passed below a couple of old stone bridges. The crossing of the River Carron had been replaced with a modern footbridge and the water was particularly swollen today, following a few days of heavy rain. I had originally intended to follow the river bank here but the rail path continued ahead and I swiftly changed tack. Eventually I reached the point where the tarmac ran out and a faint path ran towards a wooded area. I turned into the adjacent housing scheme and made my way by dead reckoning back towards the town centre. A quick consultation of Open Street Map informed me I could cross Herbertshire Park and re-unite with the Carron. As is often the case on walks, a slice of unexpected history presented itself.

A set of information panels stood beside a gnarled and obviously ancient oak tree with enormous girth. The public park was once the site of Herbertshire Castle. Built in the 1400s it played a part in the Jacobite Rebellion, housing injured warriors following the Battle of Falkirk Muir in 1746. While Bonnie Prince's Charlie's forces claimed victory, it was to have little effect on the overall campaign. The castle served as a school for boys in the last couple of decades of the 19th century. It then became the Edinburgh Holiday House for poor children - promising the youngsters a taste of pure air and happy surroundings in the country, away from the dullness of their homes. The property was owned by the Forbes dynasty of Callendar. A tragic blaze occurred during a birthday party attended by various families. Mrs Forbes discovered the fire and her four daughters escaped unharmed. Sadly, three people lost their lives, including Elizabeth Graham who was about to turn 16 and for whom the gathering had been organised. Her younger sister also perished. The building was completely gutted to the bare walls and fell into ruin, being used as a children's adventure playground until final demolition in the 1950s. I followed the Carron for a while then passed through an area of old woodland that was probably part of the Herbertshire Estate. I ducked below the M80 back towards town and followed another railway trackbed back to my starting point. A pleasant wander and another new place explored. Never make the assumption that there will be nothing to see. Every settlement has history worth checking out.

Another Sunday was spent at the Japanese Garden near Dollar. My mum came along and Nicole was there too. This must have been before she started her current working hours. Tucked away in the grounds of the long-demolished Cowden Castle, the garden was recently re-opened to the public after decades of neglect. It lies just beyond Pool of Muckhart, a small village at the southern tip of Perthshire, now administered by the Clackmannanshire Council Area. Nicole had I had been here before, not long after the the place got up and running again. The garden was still a work in progress back then and a Portakabin served as the visitors centre. It has now been replaced by a purpose-build café and shop. Things we did shortly before lockdown often appear like a very long time ago.

Water is a central feature of Japanese gardens and there are lovely ornate wooden arched and zigzag bridges here at Cowden. They symbolise our journey through life. I love the general ambience of the place and it was lovely just to stroll around on a warm day. Several stone sculptures were dotted around the compound and there was a good network of paths to follow. We omitted the outlying woodland trails as it would have been a bit too much for mum to manage. A booking slot was required but this wasn't actually a Corona measure. The ordinary policy is to maintain tranquillity by limiting visitor numbers. An unusual feature - at least by Western standards - is a dry garden which contains a carefully composed arrangement of rocks and mosses. Sand patterns are carefully raked each day to represent ripples in water. There are four moss islands and representations of a turtle and crane to convey good fortune. The dry garden is surrounded by boundary stones which indicate that visitors are not to enter the area. A roofed structure overlooked the central pond and proved a popular spot for couples to be photographed. Many of the plants and trees are representative of what would be found in a typical Japanese garden, although some are Scottish to represent the fusion of the two cultures. For example, the 90 different moss species distributed throughout, which are gathered from the surrounding estate woodland. There is also a diverse wildlife presence and the pond is stocked with fish. Thankfully, our native red squirrels have given the place their seal of approval. We spent a good hour or more wandering around before making our way back to the car. The café was busy and we decided to head down to Pool of Muckhart for a bar lunch. The Cowden Estate has quite a fascinating history. Crucial to the tale is a pioneering lady called Ella Christie who was something of a trailblazing explorer in her day. Born in 1861, she grew up at Cowden Castle, which had been purchased by her parents. Ella travelled extensively in Asia and became the first European woman to meet the Dalai Lama! An amusing anecdote relates the time she was waiting - aged 50 - for the train at Dollar station. A stranger asked if she was travelling to Edinburgh. Her curt reply - "No, Samarkand" - perfectly encapsulates the fearless spinster who was fluent in several languages, including Finnish. Ella was in the first cohort of women to be elected Fellows of the Royal Geographical Society and during a trip to China, Korea and Japan in 1907-08, she became inspired to create a Japanese garden at her Scottish home and employed expert horticulturalist Taki Handa to fulfil her dream. The burn was dammed within a 7-acre hollow to create the small lake around which the garden would be developed.

As the vegetation matured, Professor Suzuki - 18th Hereditary Head of the Soami School of Imperial Garden Design at Nagoya - came regularly to Cowden to prune the many imported shrubs and trees. He declared the garden "the best in the Western World" - widely thought to be due to the employment of experienced Japanese gardeners to maintain the grounds. One such character was Shinzaburo Matsuo, who arrived at Cowden in 1925 having lost his entire family in an earthquake back home. He lived alone on the estate and became a well-known figure in the local community, endearingly referred to as the Emperor. He tended the garden until his death in 1937. It was testament to Ella's people skills that she was able to retain such faithful and high-quality service from those who must have faced a huge culture shock when arriving upon these shores. Queen Mary visited on a few occasions and the general public were given the opportunity to view the surroundings via Scotland's Garden Scheme. Private tours and lectures were also given to horticultural and history groups. Ella Christie passed away in 1949 at the age of 87. The estate was inherited by her great nephew Robert Christie Stewart and the garden continued to be looked after. Disaster struck in1963 when a gang of teenagers broke in and caused widespread damage, including fires. A lengthy period of abandonment ensued. Fast forward 45 years and the land was now in the care of Sara Stewart, daughter of Robert and great great niece of Ella. A restoration programme was launched and Taki Handa's granddaughter was invited across. Under the guiding hand of Professor Masao Fukuhara from the Osaka University of Arts, a new garden began to spring into life under the stewardship of a charitable trust. This unique (and completely authentic) bridge between two distinct cultures can now be enjoyed by the nation. Cowden Castle was demolished way back in 1952, presumably unable to keep up with societal changes in the post-war period. This of course was a fate that befell many a grand residence in the days before historically important buildings were protected by law.

Another outing was to investigate the birthplace of my maternal grandmother. Annie Harvey (1912-1990) was born in Slamannan, Stirlingshire. She is pictured below with her mother Mary Harvey (nee Clark, 1886 - 1973). One of eight surviving children, my gran moved to Cardenden, Fife, around the age of 11. Her father George Harvey (1879-1965) was a coal miner and had presumably secured a new job in the Kingdom. Neither my mum nor I had ever been to the village of Slamannan and we decided to go and have a look. Gran's birth certificate stated she was born in Kirkburn and there was a modern street of that name still in existence, although it was now occupied by post-war housing. It would make for an interesting day out and afterwards we planned to have lunch on the banks of the Union Canal, just a few miles distant.

We found our way to the village and parked by the churchyard. I had previously received images of gravestones from a distant cousin whom I'd contacted via the Ancestry DNA test results. Gran's Uncle Johnny and Auntie Lizzy were buried here. Siblings of my great grandfather, they had remained in Slamannan all their days, living to 86 and 92 respectively. The cemetery was surprisingly large but Uncle Johnny's grave was fairly close to the church. We were able to use the photograph for navigational clues; the stone boundary wall and the presence of an elaborate tomb nearby. We didn't go off in search of Auntie Lizzie's resting place as it may have taken some considerable time and we had already located tangible evidence of the Harvey family. We drove round to Kirkburn and - as expected - found council housing that looked to have been erected around the 1960s. In no way was I disappointed. Towns change over the years, and always did. The main thing was we knew we had a pretty accurate fix on the location. Slamannan itself had clearly seen better days and a few business premises were boarded up. Mum was surprised at the rural setting. I think she had anticipated us ending up a lot closer to Falkirk. Then again, we were looking at the place many decades after heavy industry had departed. No doubt coal wagons would have rumbled across the landscape and the air must have rung to the banging and clattering of mechanised might. Probably a smoky place too as every house burned coal as the main fuel. We left the ancestral village and headed over to Lock 49 Café on the Union Canal. I had noticed the place from the towpath on the other side during previous walks and kept a mental note to stop by one day. It did not disappoint. The food was excellent and a wooden terrace overlooks the water, although we opted to sit inside on a slightly chilly day. Mum said she had always been fascinated by canals so I'd obviously chosen a good spot. I saw a sign for a water taxi service to and from nearby Linlithgow. Handy if you were bringing a small party and planning to have a drink or two.